The Fog is Rising
by The Consulting Psychic
Summary: Matthew has nightmares about one night that changed his life. He's terrified of water, so it's only fitting that his adoptive fathers move him and his twin brother to the beach. Francis opens a pastry shop, Arthur works on his latest book, Alfred stars on the baseball team, and Matthew meets a man... 'man'... that entices him to fall in love. Too bad he's in the water.
1. Chapter 1

CH 1- Of Nightmares.

"Alright, boys!" Francis put the car in park in front of a tall, mint green beach house. Three moving trucks were already open, contents spread across the small lawn, and Arthur stood between two of them, directing the moving men on where to go with the furniture.  
While Alfred jumped out, a mile long smile on his face, Matthew didn't move. He watched as Alfred hugged Arthur before picking up a few things and helping the moving men.  
"Matthew…" Francis turned in his seat, and Matthew looked at him. "I know you don't want to be here-"  
"You know, huh?" Matthew's voice was shaking.  
"I know you'll miss your old school. But please, give this place a chance, because I know you'll love it." Francis smiled encouragingly, and went on when Matthew didn't reply. "The beach is beautiful, and Alfred has already gotten accepted onto the baseball team at the new highschool. Your father already has inspiration for his new book, and I'm ready to open the pastry shop as soon as I hire an assistant" Francis sighed. "Please give it a try, mon amour."  
Matthew wordlessly slipped from the car, and picked up a few boxes for his room. He realized for the time, when he got his room set up as he liked it, that in comparison to Alfred, he didn't have much. Just a few hockey posters, his laptop, iPod, and several shelves stocked with books against Alfred's game console, his hundred or so games, laptop, phone, iPod, baseball gear, and several books of baseball cards. It wasn't beaus Arthur or Francis didn't pay attention to him. Matthew just didn't take an interest in things.  
"Hey, Mattie, let's go to the beach!" Alfred yelled from his room, and Matthew shivered at the thought. He could see the beach perfectly from his window (they were right on the water, a small creek and bridge were all that set the yard and beach apart.) It wasn't friendly looking; the water was deep and dark and dangerous, and the island that the house sat on was well away from any other houses, but one could still walk the bridge to the road and go to the many other island homes. It was gray and windy, and palm trees swayed dangerously.  
"I really don't want to," he replied as Alfred came into his room.  
"C'mon, don't be like that," Alfred said. "You never go swimming with me at ho- at the old house."  
"Home…" Matthew said the word bitterly. "At home."  
"This is our home now. Home is where Arthur and Francis is… It's been that way for ten years, Mattie…" Alfred took a deep breath. "Why are you always so… Bitchy and moody and… Depressed all the time? You're freaking me out."  
Matthew gave Alfred a wounded look, and turned away from him. "I'm not… I just don't like swimming."  
"Or fishing, or-"  
"Just go to the beach if you want to, Alfred, I need to get my books on the shelves and organized," Matthew said, cutting his twin off loudly.  
"Alright…" Alfred turned and strode from the room. There was a rustle, and he disappeared down the stairs in his swimming trunks. The door on the first level slammed moments later, and Matthew felt the house fall blissfully silent; Francis and Arthur must have been outside with the movers.  
Matthew spent an hour fixing his books the way he liked them: alphabetically by the title of the books. Then he went down to the kitchen to find something to eat. Alfred still hadn't returned from trying to teach himself to surf, and there was a note taped to the fridge.

_Went to the grocery store, then to a furniture store. We will be home in a few hours. Love, Francis_

Matthew fixed himself a sandwich, and when he had finished it, he decided to take a nap. The car ride had been tiring, and not at all as restful as he had hoped. He went to his room, closed the door, and was asleep by the time his head hit the pillow.

_Matthew was shaking, trying to fend off hands as they ran down his body, making trails of unbearable hotness. His heart was pounding, not just from fear, but from something that he couldn't point out. He was sluggish, his thoughts not moving correctly except for one that moved around in his head at the speed of lightning. 'It hurts, they're hurting me, they're going to hurt me…' _  
_The women were laughing, pulling at his clothes until he was naked and shivering, and trying to tell them to leave him alone. But they wouldn't, they kept touching him, and speaking to him in what he was sure they believed as sultry tones. _  
_Then, as soon as the blackness that always covered his vision disappeared, he opens his eyes and his lungs are stinging, and he's trying to breathe but all he gets is water. Water pressing around him, freezing and crushing him, hands holding him down, and he opens his mouth and screams as they chant his name._  
_Matthew…_  
_Matthew!_

"MATTHEW!"  
Matthew's throat seared as he sat up, gasping for breath as though he had been running. Alfred is standing over him, eyes wide and worried and he was dripping wet. In fact, so was Matthew, and he realized that he was shaking. Cold sweat… Nightmare…  
"What happened, what's wrong?" Alfred asked, pressing a hand against Matthew's forehead.  
"N-Nothing, Al…"  
"Don't give me that… I heard you screaming from all the way in the water. Were you having another nightmare?" He asked, stroking Matthew's drenched hair out of his face.  
"Yeah."  
"What about?"  
"Nothing… Nothing, Al, I just need to… Open a window. Go dry off, you're soaking wet…"  
Alfred looked reluctant to leave his brother, but he stepped out and went to dry off.  
Matthew took a deep breath and moved shakily to the window, and threw it open. As he did, he glanced at the sea, and noticed a white head bobbing not too far out from the beach. Or at least it looked like a white head, because as soon as Matthew had focused on it, it flipped out of sight with what looked like a flourish of a white tail.  
"Hey, Mattie, we have dolphins!" Alfred called from next door. "You should come and see them, they really like people!"  
"How do you know?" Matthew asked, turning away from the window.  
"I felt one brush against me, and looked down just long enough to catch the tail zipping past."  
"That's nice…" Matthew was still breathing heavily from the nightmare when Arthur and Francis came home and he was thankful that his brother kept quiet about the incident. 


	2. Chapter 2

Matthew didn't sleep that night, choosing to stay awake to avoid another of his nightmares. He thought, briefly, that he might feel better if he talked about it. But no… the only person that he had ever told was Michael, his once close friend. Michael had laughed and called him a disgusting whore, among other things. Michael had, in fact, been Matthew's only friend, even though Michael was so much older. So Matthew kept the secret to himself, and every doctor and psychiatrist the orphanage had called in.  
With a sigh, Matthew got up to open the window. Living on the top floor had advantages, and disadvantages… the biggest _disadvantage_ was the fact that heat always rising, so it was blazing hot. As he threw open the window, the white dolphin that he had seen rose up out of the water. He shivered, and went to turn away, but before he could, an arm rose from the 'dolphin's side and waved at him.  
_'There's a person in the water…'_ Matthew thought and, before his fear could tear through the curiosity, he pulled on a shirt and crept silently into the hall, down the stairs, and out the door. The person was still waiting there, shining wetly in the moonlight, and Matthew noticed that it was a he, and that he had snow white hair that didn't seem to be wet at all in comparison to his lean, pale body and he had red eyes, and-  
"Holy FUCK…" Matthew stared. "You have… you're a fucking…"  
He had a tail. A long, glistening, scaly tail, and Matthew thought that he was about to pass out when it opened its mouth, and a low, feral sounding screech came from its mouth. Matthew stumbled back, falling ass first into the sand, and the thing tossed its head back and laughed. His laugh was loud and obnoxious, but better than the hissing.  
"I couldn't resist. You're the first human that I've seen in ages. Well… besides the other one that was in the water earlier…"  
Matthew stared, frozen on the sand. "You're what my brother mistook as a dolphin."  
The other nodded.  
"What… What are you?" Matthew leaned forward inquisitively.  
"Well, take a look," he said, and Matthew noted that his voice was nice to listen to right before he swung around and slapped Matthew with his wet, smooth tail. Matthew choked, pushing the water from his eyes in a panic, and he floundered backwards quickly. "Whoa, sorry! Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!"  
"Wh-What's your name?"  
"Gilbert." The man—merman?—Gilbert smiled showing slightly pointed teeth. Then, the smile dropped to be replaced with a curious look. "Are… you the one that was screaming earlier today?"  
Matthew felt himself turn faintly red, and he looked away. "You… heard that?"  
"Yes. You sounded as though somebody had intended to murder you." Gilbert splashed forward a bit, and laid on his stomach, half in the water and half out. "Why?"  
"I had… just a bad dream…" And then, to himself, '_And I think I'm in another one now… he's going to try and drown me…'_  
"Oh…" Gilbert was silent for a few moments. "What's your name?"  
"Look, I don't make a point of making friends. Let alone with… people of your persuasion."  
"What, male?"  
"No, mermaid."  
"MerMAN."  
"Whatever. And I don't really feel like it today, because really, this is just a bad dream, and any moment you're going to pop out of that water and drag me in like… they always… do…" Matthew trailed off, and stood quickly. "And names means you're getting too familiar."  
"I'm… sorry if I offended you," Gilbert said, looking confused.  
Matthew didn't reply, just turned away and started walking back to the house.  
"Will you come back tomorrow? Or, uh… later today?" Gilbert called after him, and Matthew thought privately that it was a wonder that his loud mouth didn't wake the rest of the house.  
"Probably not."

"Well, Matthew, how did you sleep last night?" Arthur asked first thing in the morning when Matthew came down out of his room. Shrugging one shoulder, Matthew dropped into one of the seats and pulled a piece of toast towards him and started to butter it. Arthur's eyes dropped down to his paper and morning tea after a long look at his youngest son, and Francis came to plant a kiss on Matthew's head.  
"Breakfast, mon petit?"  
"Just… hash browns," Matthew said, eating his toast. While Francis was cooking, Alfred came down, looking dead to the world, and flung himself into the chair beside Matthew.  
"Good morning, Alfie," Arthur said, looking over the paper at him. Alfred grumbled back. "Sleep well?" Another grumble. "Good, good."  
"Breakfast?"  
"Bacon and eggs," Alfred said, and Matthew laughed because what else would his ever hungry brother force out at what he called 'ungodly hours'?  
"Your father and I are going back into town today," Francis announced, and Arthur nodded distractedly. "The moving people dropped his desk and broke two of the legs off, so we need to go and get a new one. And since your father has awful decorating abilities, I am helping him pick it out. I also need to be in the store for a few hours."  
"Baseball practice," Alfred mumbled, diving on his bacon as Francis sat it in front of him. Matthew received his hash browns right after, and poured a good amount of ketchup on them.  
"Already?" Arthur asked, folding the paper when Francis announced that his food was almost done. "It's not time, is it?"  
"Yeah, gotta break in the new team," Alfred said, grinning, and finally beginning to wake up a bit.  
"What about you, Mattie?" Arthur asked. "Any plans?"  
"Reading," Matthew replied , finishing his hash browns. "That's… really it."  
"Oh. Want to come to town with us?"  
"No thank you, I need to finish my summer reading," Matthew said, smiling.  
"Alright, dear, but if you need us-"  
"I'll call you," Matthew finished.  
It took the family what seemed like hours (but what was really about forty five minutes) to get out of the house after all the plates had been cleared away. Matthew grabbed his book (not his summer reading, he had finished that _ages_ ago) and went outside. The tide was a little farther away, and falling, so Matthew chose to sit a little ways away from the water and read. Though the sun wasn't shining, it was oddly warm, and he laid back, resting his head on the out-door pillow he had snagged from one of the lounge chairs on the porch. He felt his shirt ride up, and the wind caressed his stomach where there was a long scar from that incident so many years ago. One of the women had held a knife to his belly, threatening to cut him open if he screamed… and he had, and she kept to her word. When asked about the wound, Matthew simply said that it was from where he had cut himself playing around in the kitchens (something that children were very fond of doing at the orphanage).  
Matthew was pulled from his memories by a cool, wet hand trailing along the scar. He sat up, gasping, and was met with shining red eyes and a scowl.  
"How did you get it?" Gilbert asked, half in the water and half out again. He nodded to the scar, and Matthew yanked his shirt down. He decided not to answer, but the smack of Gilbert's tail, impatient, against the water and sand made him rethink it.  
"I… got hurt when I was little," he said, voice thick through the constriction in his throat at the thought of Gilbert asking him to recount the memory. Thankfully, that's not the question that came.  
"Do you have other scars?"  
"Not that you can see," Matthew replied quietly. He curled his hands around the book he was holding tightly.  
"How old were you?"  
Matthew figured that he could risk telling this strange fish man that much. "I was seven."  
Gilbert nodded, resting his head in his hands. He was laying on his stomach again, swishing his tail lazily through the water.  
"What's your name?" he asked again, and Matthew found himself grinning. He opened his mouth to tell him, and a loud twittering from a nearby tree cut him off. As Gilbert burst into his loud cackles, Matthew turned to glare at the bird, but it was already gone. "Alright, Birdie."  
"What, no! That's not-"  
"Beautiful Birdie…" Gilbert said, and Matthew felt a strange, heavy feeling in his stomach. _  
'Did he just call me beautiful?' _Matthew took a breath, and leaned forward. "My name is Matthew."  
"Well, Matthew…" Gilbert grinned. "Do you swim?"  
"No." Matthew's response was more clipped than he had meant it to be.  
"Why?"  
"You ask a lot of questions?"  
"You avoid a lot of questions," Gilbert retorted. "Why don't you swim? It's got to be better than walking around on those _legs_."  
"I prefer walking, thanks," Matthew said, eyebrows raising.  
"Alright, Birdie…" Gilbert winked. "Whatever you say."  
"My name isn't-"  
"Oh, sorry, Birdie… I really have to go home," Gilbert said quickly, looking up at the sun. "My father will be upset if I'm late to another meeting."  
"Meeting?"  
"Yeah, government meeting. I have to take over the family slot in the govern-"  
"Mermaids have a government?" Matthew asked, looking amused. "What, and there's a secret book of mermaid rules, too?"  
"Yes, have you read it?"  
"…No. Why, is there anything important in there?"  
"Well, kinda… but nothing I can't find a loophole in." Gilbert dropped another wink. "Gotta go. I'll see you later tonight, Birdie."  
Matthew opened his mouth to maintain that that was NOT his name, but Gilbert was already gone with a swish of tail.


End file.
